


tickets to my downfall 🏹

by Crazy_Comet_97



Series: Lighting Strikes Their Eyes....Or Was It An Arrow? [12]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Afterlife, Barry Allen & Oliver Queen Friendship, Bisexual Barry Allen, Bisexual Oliver Queen, Drabble and a Half, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Gen, Heartache, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Older Oliver Queen, Oliver Queen Has Feelings, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, Oliver Queen Loves Barry Allen, Oliver Queen has a heart, Other, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Past Oliver Queen/Barry Allen, Pining, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, completed work, sad vibes for ya'll today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27385213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_Comet_97/pseuds/Crazy_Comet_97
Summary: If he’d still been here, with him, will all of them, things would have been different.That whole space and paragons multi-dimensional bullshittery thing he got dragged into didn't help either.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Oliver Queen, Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: Lighting Strikes Their Eyes....Or Was It An Arrow? [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851004
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	tickets to my downfall 🏹

He really likes the view from up here. It’s calm. Quiet. 

Almost too quiet for a city. 

Especially one so heavily crowded and congested with crime and filth as Starling.

Oh, wait. It wasn’t that anymore. It hadn’t been for years. Decades.

He thinks the last time he may have been on this building, standing here, Barry was alive and he’d had a full head of hair. Not so much anymore. But who cares?

The guards of the place were rather dumb to let a rather old has been multi-millionaire not only into their fine building without so much as batting an eye ( _seriously, they didn’t even ask him for ID, good thing he didn’t have any to show_ ), but not to notice as he took the elevator and didn’t get off with others, using an old walking stick to jam it into unmoving once he reached the roof. 

Or at least, he hopes it jammed it enough to do that. It was made out of something stronger then the steel those damned death trap boxes were made out of. A parting gift from Ramirez from like 30 years ago, just before he became Mayor, a thankyou.

He hopes the old man doesn’t take this too badly, after all, it’s not anyone’s fault.

It’s not him, or Curtis’s or Laurel or Sara or Felicity’s ( _god, this’ll kill her, he knows that, knew it since he first started thinking about this again_ ) and never William or Mia’s.

This, this final act of a desperate and senile old man, a washed-up vigilante that only lived for the family he’d made, but never wanted and the same man who lost the unknowingly bright ( _bright, bright as fuck, goddamn it_ ) light that kept him sane for so long in a flash ( _literally_ ) of nothing, will hurt, but he’s numb to it all.

It’s not usually a very sane thing to think about what you’ll wear to your own death, but he’s seen death before. He knows it well and for this occasion, he forgoed the green.

It’s been 6 decades since he wore it last anyway, when it was torn from him thanks to that whole space and paragons multi-dimensional bullshittery thing he got dragged into.

What was the point? Not like it ever looked nicer soaked in blood.

The only time red ever looked good with green was at Christmas ( _obviously, he may not be a saint and hate the holiday, but it was for William’s sake mostly_ ) or when Barry was around.

...God, _Barry_.

The mere thought of the speedster managed to make tears well up in his eyes, a privileged few disappearing into the clouds below his person as he swayed dangerously on the edge of glass panelled railing he stood on.

If he’d still been here, with him, will all of them, things would have been different.

Iris West would still be talking to everyone and not have moved out of Central for her ‘journalism career’, only to seldom talk to anyone about anything unless it was an obligatory holiday card addressed from San Deigo and with the love of some TV station.

Joe West, her father, would also still be here and not have died of a heart attack (but more like a broken heart in retrospect, he didn’t know how he’d survived his own heart beating away so splintered) only a few short years after the searches for his lost son were stopped.

Other family members like Wally and his little sister Jenna still came around, mostly due to the fact that Wally was his son in law, having married William almost 30 years ago now.

As for Jenna, he and Felicity took her in when her mother needed the help and now she was flourishing in Opal City on her own with her own company and all the skills he’d wanted Barry to teach her, not him.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine Barry, atoms and upon atoms, all the clumsy bits of him, suddenly rushing up the side of this building in a full sprint of lightning, his hair short and greyed with age and wrinkles on his face from laughing ( _never frowning, ever_ ) appearing in the dull cloudiness of his vision, grabbing at him to stop him from doing what he was about to do, shouting that this was not the right thing, not the right way to go…

It’s quiet, when he drops. Almost too quiet for a city.

When he wakes, as he will do, he’s in a bed, no longer an 84-year-old man. He only has to turn to his side to see a wide smile, green eyes and a red t-shirt before he’s up and crushing his lips onto others that _haven’t stopped talking_ yet, but he doesn’t care.

His heart feels like it’s whole again and that’s all that matters.


End file.
